Friend welcomed back
by UnicornTKD
Summary: Dagonet wakes in the morning on the ground at Badon Hill after the great battle. But something is wrong... It wasn't suppose to happen this way.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Dagonet wakes in the morning on the ground at Badon Hill after the great battle. But something is wrong... It wasn't suppose to happen this way.

**Note:**Inspiration came from music from "13th warrior" and other alike.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own nothing but my imagination  
"Friend welcomed back" 

Before he opened his eyes, he felt a dull pain in his head and back, and warmth of sunlight on his face. Sense of wetness all over his body, which was strangely numb. And that scary silence... only wind blew into his ears. He had taste of blood in his mouth. 

Before he opened his eyes, images came. Images of ice and fire combined with each other... coming nearer and nearer to him... 

After he opened his eyes, he saw a dead man face in front of his. Wide opened eyes of a Woad warrior painted in blue looked at him with surprise and pain within. Then he realized that it wasn't a dead man... but only his head. He breathed hard, tried to relax himself from the shock.

He gazed down to his body. He laid on his right side in his Sarmatian armor... all in blood. But he couldn't notice any wound on him. He bit his lips and closed eyes for a moment. He hoped it was only a delusion and when he will open his eyes again all of these will be gone.

But it wasn't. Still he laid all in blood on the ground alongside the dead head without a body. Like in a nightmare, but it was real.

He turned himself to his back and glanced over the other side. There it was... whole hill filled with broken weaponry, teared streamers proudly sticking out of the wet from blood ground and lots of bodies - some of them complete but mostly in pieces.

He leaned on his hands and put himself on knees. Then he saw his axe laing on the ground near him. Blood was all over it... all over the whole ground where he had just laid. He grasbed his weapon and with it's help, leaning on it knight stood up straight on his feet. He spat blood from his mouth. And looked around.

Death was everywhere.

Then his gaze fell upon the wall and a keep far to the right. Slowly started to walk towards it...

TBC!

**Feedbacks:**What do you think about it? Please let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

It was so silent and dark. The bodies laying all over the ground - everywhere. So much pain felt almost everywhere... So silent.

"Dagonet!" a sudden cry from above. 

Knight looked up and saw a distant lonely and a little blur figure on a wall with two hilts of a sword above it's head.

"Open the gate!" repeated a few voices after Lancelot call.

Soon gate stood wide open and Tristan behind it. Scout had his armor on him, and dirt all over it. His hair was sticked together with blood. Behind him a group of Roman soldiers with swords in their hands. Tristan held his hand on a hilt of a sword ready to attack at anything. Scout was alert, but still his face smiled at Dagonet. 

"Quickly! Come inside!" said Tristan coming up to him to help his brother if necessary. As soon as they reached the square in the keep the gate closed.

"Welcome back, my friend! I'm glad you're alive!" said knight puting his hand on Dagonet's shoulder.

Big knight nodded still unsure what have happened here. The square was empty. No common people... only soldiers.

"We thought that you are dead!" shouted Lancelot coming down from the wall. He carried with him a bow. Dagonet then realized that there were archers spreaded all over the wall observing the area. They were so silent and tensed. Dagonet looked at Lancelot. His face was covered with dirt and blood, his hands were cut and he had a wound acros one of his shoulders. 

"Sorry that we didn't seek you out" said Lancelot seriously. "But after... well..." knight became silent and looked down avoiding Dagonet's gaze.

"We had to move back to the wall" finished for him Tristan. "We didn't have any choice then."

"What happened?" asked simply Dagonet feeling that something wasn't just right here. 

"Woads cut our escape rout from island. Oh! They grew stronger after the..."

"Sir!"

They looked up for a soldier on the wall.

"They have return!" 

Lancelot smirked at his fellow knights.

"Prepare for combat!" he cried over to soldiers near him. "Brothers, let's do this!"

Tristan smiled widely and ran over to the wall grasping his bow that had laid near. The call of blood drew him to battle... The call of death. Now was the time to satisfy this hunger for blood. Nothing else was important now... he wanted now only death and destruction. It was his true nature - longing for the taste of blood and death.

Lancelot nodded and looked into Dagonet's eyes before leaving for the wall ordering soldiers to move to their positions. Something in his look wasn't his - leadership. The way he spoken his orders to soldiers. And that determination! Will to fight! Dagonet frowned at him as Lancelot made his way to the wall.

But didn't have time to think. Some soldier gave him a bow, and Dagonet climbed fast to the wall. He had almost fell from it at the sight of the attackers. There were thousends of them! Thousends naked, blue painted men and women proudly crossing the field. Knight saw that kind of power first time in his life. Woads never have been so strong... so many of them! From where did they come? Dagonet breathed hard and looked over at his two brothers. 

"Where is the rest of us?" asked them.

Tristan and Lancelot mentioned looks.

"Did you hit your head, friend?" asked finally Lancelot.

Dagonet shook his head. 

"I don't... understand"

"What others? There are only us now" said Tristan.

That sentence struck Dagonet hard. _Only us now?_ What the hell that means. 

"Here they come!" cried Lancelot. "Soldiers! Don't look back, because behind you is only death now! Listen to my commands and everything will be fine!"

His commands? Dagonet hadn't any time. Woads were approaching - fast.

Tristan licked his lips... Blood come acros his way, and he will taste it with pleasure. This was the time of death.

"Someone should... inform Arthur about this." said Dagonet suddenly. 

Tristan put his hand on his shoulder.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes!"

"Arthur is... dead. For over two years!"

Dagonet felt darkness covering his eyes and soul. He almost fainted, but a wild scream of the Woads brought him back to reality.

The battle had started.

TBC!


	3. Chapter 3

We hear music all the time...  
We fell it in our hearts...  
We love it and hate it.  
It is a part of us.  
It lingers in our blood.

The music of war...  
Plays in us  
We are it's tones and voices.  
We live for the music

Screams... 

Sound of steel...

Darkness... 

Fear... 

Blood... 

Oh, yes! Blood all over his body, in hair, on shoulders, hands, on face... in his mouth. It's taste was the oblivion of the moment. It gave him pleasure and strenght... He wanted it... he wanted to drian it from his enemies, spill it on his own body - feel it's closeness. To drown in it...

Another swing of the sword and blood came upon his body. Death was inevitable... but blood comes always first - then the pleasure from taking someone's life, the last blow of breath made always made him shiver from excitement... and a smile appears on his lips. Smile that controled the rest of him. Controled and led him to next fight. Next person to bleed. To put an end to another warrior existence. It was his purpose... Tristan's life destination.

The smirk on his face when preparing his swords to strike. The smirk when he looked in his enemies eyes just before taking his life. Just before hearing their screams of pain. He didn't take a pleasure of taking someone's life, but he felt satisfaction and relief because he was still alive. The satisfaction of being better then his enemy, of being swordship master. He had been always better fighter then commander. But life gave him lidership of these all men in the Badon keep. Cut of the escape... Romans must have stayed here. And they have acknowledged him as their leader. Two years after death of their true - Roman leader. But he fail as the commander. Gawain, Galahad, Bors - they all are dead now. Because of him... because he hadn't enough strenght to defend them in battle. He was just smirking in the eyes of his enemies... not looking aroudn himself. Always cares about himself. Never for his troops or knights. He was just smirking and flickering his swords. Smirking at his own foolishness. He was no leader.

And he hated one man and wanted to smirk at him also. Smirk at the path that man took. Smirk at his will to fight with Rome and Lancelot. He wanted to look into his deep green eyes and stab his heart once again. Kill him once more for his betrayal. He wanted to smirk at him... get pleasure from this smile. The last sight of his long friend and lover, then traitor and enemy number one. The one and only man he had always loved. The only man that he had killed with pleasure... Oh yes! He wanted to smirk at the young Woad leader once more. And smirk at his love to the woman who was unfaithful to him and made love with Lancelot. He wanted to blame him for the deaths of his brother that were his knights long time ago. Smirk at him for the last time... At the traitor of them all. The man that caused this war. The man that had been long dead now. Yes Lancelot would gladly smirk at him.

When attacking in battle he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't suppose to do it. To kill another man... or woman. He was suppose to live in home with his little lover and make love to her... have lots of children and live happy, not worrying about all of this - pain, blood, steel and fire... about war. But he was here, fighting with everybody who stood before him with a weapon. And he killed as many as he could - just to stay alive. It wasn't fair, but it was just it - the reallity. He was here... Every stroke of his axe brought pain to his heart and hate to himself. It was not suppose to happen. This battle... this life. Everyithing was suppose to be diffrent. He was suppose to defend his commander at all costs. But now he had learned that his leader, the man that gave him will to fight was dead for two years. How could it be true? Last thing he remembered was feeling of coldness and wetness. Ice... Now fire burned all around him. Arthur was dead for two years... Why he didn't remember it? Where is Bors, Gawain and Galahad? _"There are only us now"_ - Tristan's words.

Axe fall down on the head of the Woad attacker spliting him in two. Blood spilled... The victim of his hatred to himself. He was fury for not knowing about anything. Fury at himself thtat didn't remeber anything. His rage aimed at Woads, at his long time enemies. He wished to kill them all now. Hated himself for this wish, this unnamed feeling - lust for death.

It was not suppose to happen this way... After another stroke of his weapon he saw it. Death... Fire and ice - combined with each other. Fighting. They were in his mind and heart. He was fighting for his destiny... his life. But why? Why he was here? He felt he wasn't suppose to be here. He was suppose to fall long ago. To be dead and buried. This land an it's people should be free. His Sarmatian borthers should be free. He should give his life to free, protect them.

But he was here...

The symphony ends the same as always...  
We die...  
Or we live...  
The silent voices of war  
And nameless notes of death.

We are the music...  
We have it in our blood...  
We play it's melody...

In our vains is music of pain  
We live for it.  
We live for the music of war

"Now! Now!" screamed Lancelot. "Archers!"

Roman soldiers ran into their places and started lunching arrows into Woads. They fell under this unexpected turn of the battle. Archers on the roofs of the buildings aiming for the Woads mixed up with their own people... Romans and three Sarmatians. Dagonet had been almost hit by one of these arrows, ducked in the last moment. Looked up in surprise... Tactics of a mad man. But then, Lancelot was a mad man to stand for this attack anyway. The defenders didn't have any chances to win it. Seeing a glimpse of an archer aiming in his direction Tristan stab his enemy and covered himself with his body from the arrow. He smiled feeling the last movement of the Woad in his arms. Familiar scream of pain... Tristan looked quickly over to Lancelot who stood to the far right, fighting with three Woads. Soon he would fall under their strikes. Without any thinking he ran to him killing another enemy - quickly, without pleasure of it.

Dagonet fell onto the ground. Hit by an arrow... in his side.

"Damn it!" 

He managed to avoid a strike of Woad's blade that would cut his head off. And he attacked with axe... cuting of the enemies legs. High voice screamed in pain... Long blondie haired woman fell beside him. But still he wanted him dead. Stabed him with a dagger in his chest. He hadn't time to react. Sharp pain made him breath hard... and shout with pain. He drew the dagger from the wound and plunged it's balde into her throat. Then shivering out with pain and fury tried to lean on his axe in order to get up. But simply fell onto the ground... Some Woad warrior with tattoo of sun spoted him and slowly came in his diraction. Laying on the ground Dagonet breathed hard desperately catching the air. Saw the man closing on him. And watched as he stood over him and slowly lifting his small axe to make a mortal blow. Then Dag realized that he knew him... Arthur speared him on that day, the last day of his duty. Knight looked at him with provocative...

His defiant look at the warrior who was always loyal to Merlin and two later leaders of his tribe. His eyes upon the big Sarmatian... that killed many of his brothers and sisters, now laying helpless on the ground, ready for the last blow. It was his honor to kill this enemy. He was glad to do it... To end his life in this battle - already won by his fellow soldiers. But something in the eyes of this knight made Woad hesitate. Will to live altought he knew that his life is foregone. But he will not get a mercy from his hand! Sun tattooed man knew that he wouldn't get that mercy from him or any other of Sarmatian knights or Roman soldier. He firmly lifted up his hand with small axe. To make that mortal blow... The last look over the blue eyes of the knight, before he will plunge it's blade into his head...

A signal to retreat cut trough the air. Strange tense and stillnes of the Woad warriors just for a scond. Then they started to move back towards the gate and then the woods.

Loyal Woad soldier stared at knight with a disbelive and hate. He started slowly to move back. It wasn't the end. He would someday kill this knight. He wanted to do it...

Tristan looked around. Woads were leaving. The battle was at it's end. They have defended themselfs... for now. It started to rain heavily. Smoke rose from the last flames of fire that burned their homes... the Badon keep. Tristan licked his lips in search of the last drops of blood and turned around to kneeling Lancelot. His brother was looking into the ground holding injured shoulder. Tristan bend over him. 

"They are gone, my brother" whispered to him. 

Lancelot slowly lifted his head and gazed at Tristan. Then put his hand on Tristan shoulder. Scout helped him to stand up straight and support his body that he would not fall to the ground once more. Lancelot clenched his grasp around hilt of his sword and looked around. Bodies of Woads and Romans all over. Death and pain all around him. Useless deaths of good people who stayed to fight against evil... all of them - Woads and Romans. The slavery was evil. And they were slaves not to Rome, not to Britan... but to them selfs. Joined in never ending war...

But still there were alive people... Him and Tristan... Roman soldiers... hope that Dagonet also. They have defended themselfs against the fury of Woads. They have lived. Lancelot smiled weakly...

Lifted his sword with a scream of victory. The soldiers answered him the same. It was a battle won... no matter how. They were still alive. Lancelot screamed with joy.

"Victory!"

Laughts and screams of joy surrounded him. He was a true leader to them... to the last soldiers of not Rome... but simply a sourvives of the last wave. Wave of war... They were still here. Ready to stand their ground till the end.

"Tristan... We have lived out" he whispered. 

"Yes we did, brother"

Lancelot looked around in search...

"Please find Dagonet. I don't want to make the same mistake again..." he said weakly and clentch his grasp over Tristan's shoulder.

"I will..." said Tristan as Lancelot fainted in his arms.

Dagonet laid on the ground blinking his eyes - trying to get the pain away. Breathed hard... He touched his side and quickly moved back his hand. Bleeding heavily... it was a bad wound. He looked up into the sky. Darkness and drops of rain over his face.

"Are you just resting, my friend?"

He lookd faintly at approaching knight. Didn't say anything just was happy to see the scout.

"Come... I will help you get into the infirmary"

Dagonet simply nodded.

"Glad that you are unharmed" said silently. 

Tristan nodded as he helped him get up.

"Did you avoid the fight?" asked suddenly Dagonet.

Tristan smiled...

"Yea, watching you get sweat"

Dagonet chuckled.

"You don't get that very often, do you?" 

Tristan nodded and supported Dag when he felt a pain in his side.

"Okey. No more talking about me! Let's get you treat..."

Dagonet nodded again.

"I like watching sweating nurses" added Tristan as they walked slowly towards the infirmary.


End file.
